


oh, we're going out in style, babe

by smads



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Referenced Child Abuse, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, octavio silva is Not Okay, zul this is for u :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smads/pseuds/smads
Summary: Inspired by a tweet from @dosawoydosa"What are you doing here, Silva? Don't you have your own place?""Yeah, seen it, my old man owns the place so I already know what it looks like."but like with way more angst.
Relationships: Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	oh, we're going out in style, babe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tweet from @dosawoydosa
> 
> "What are you doing here, Silva? Don't you have your own place?"  
> "Yeah, seen it, my old man owns the place so I already know what it looks like."
> 
> but like with way more angst.

He hauled his backpack over his shoulder, tapping his foot impatiently as the PR rep droned on. He didn't want to be here, and he had made that abundantly clear to the Apex team before they had departed Solace. The exchange was far from polite and he would've scored himself a shiny little suspension if it hadn't been for Che's interference. Their first game was set for tomorrow, so they had all day today to explore the planet, hit the firing range, familiarize themselves with the new battleground. Or, in Octavio's case, sulk. He obnoxiously cleared his throat in the middle of the PR Rep's speech. The other man narrowed his eyes at him and he put up his hands defensively. The rep was a nice enough guy, but he couldn't shut up sometimes. Especially now, when all Octavio wanted was to get to his new games-sponsored shithole apartment and play video games. 

"You gonna show me around?" 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention as he drew in a breath. 

"Yeah, I'll take you home to daddy while I'm at it, huh?" He quipped back. Crypto scoffed.

"Such sass." 

"That's why you like me." Their tones were barely registered as audible. Nobody knew about their little fling--a mutual agreement-- and they weren't about to find out here, in front of God and PR and Everyone. Che had her suspicions, but Octavio had quickly shut them down, assuring her they were just gaming buddies.

(They were a whole other type of "buddies".)

"Alright, Legends! Enough from me! If you'll step out into the lobby, you'll find the keycards to your new apartments. Shuttles will be running to the arena all day, so you can come and go at your leisure. Psamathe is a beautiful planet, so please feel free to explore. If you need a food recommendation, I'm sure our favorite speed demon and healer could help you out, they grew up here!" 

_Oh sure, lay it on thicker,_ _fucker._

"Unfor--" He started, quickly shut down by Ajay.

"Yep! Sure did. Let me or Silva know if ya need any recommendations. Or directions, _Elliott_."

"What? Why me pa...pes..specifically?" Elliott looked mock-hurt at her words, quickly softening into laughter.

"Have you met you, mate?" Ramya bellowed, slapping herself on the knee and jabbing her finger toward him. She thought she was a lot funnier than everyone else did, perhaps, but that was a good one. Elliott was a good friend, somewhere beneath his slightly dickish exterior, but overwhelmingly, _terribly_ directionally challenged. 

Excitedly chattering amongst each other, everyone flooded into the lobby to collect their room keys. Octavio hung back, staring somewhat nervously out the window. Tae Joon waited by the door for a second, before nodding quickly, making eye contact, and then dipping through the door, an unspoken "are you okay?" lingering in the air, weighing down on him. He felt a small hand wrap around his bicep and startled back to life. 

"Y'know time still moves even when you don't, right?" She drawled, squeezing fondly on his arm. 

"Mmhm." He answered, avoiding her eyes. He wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified. For most people here, home was comforting, familiar, welcoming. For Octavio, home was where the dread was. His father had been less than fatherly growing up, a powerful pharmaceuticals CEO and intimidating alcoholic. He was a large man, with cologne so think you could drown in it, and a backhand that could make you bleed. Octavio winced slightly at the memory of his high school graduation. He was in the bottom third of his class, obviously a massive disappointment to his father, especially given his brilliant best friend, who was salutatorian. When he got home from an afterparty that he'd snuck away to, he reeked of booze and weed and embarrassment. It was long after midnight, and he'd expected his father to be in bed. He wasn't. He was sat at his desk, pushing an empty highball glass between his giant hands. Octavio tried to sneak past. 

_"Boy."_

_He froze. Good sentences never started like that._

_Sighing, he leaned on the doorframe, "dad."_

_"You're a Silva."_

_"I am painfully aware."_

_"You're my only son."_

_"I know, dad," he poked the carpet with the toe of his shoe._

_"And even that's up for debate....'son'" he spat, eyes boring straight into Octavio's middle. He shifted uncomfortably under his gaze._

_"Can we please not talk about that right now? My gend-"_

_"You're a disappointment in every way, Octavio,"_

_"Congratulations on graduating, son. I'm so proud of you, son. You did the best you could, son..." He mimicked his father's deep voice, clenching his jaw around the last word to keep from feeling anything._

_"You didn't do your best! You didn't do anything. You can't be the product of myself and your mother and be that stupid!" He had gotten up now, resting his fingers on the glass making a wet ring on his mahogany desk._

_"I'm not stupid." Octavio mumbled._

_His father took two large steps forward and it was all Octavio could do not to cower._

_"What'd you just say to me?"_

_"I said I'm not stupid." He lifted his gaze to meet his father's now, upper lip trembling slightly in anger and fear and some other emotion he wasn't willing to admit to._

_And he wasn't stupid. He was just a kid who hadn't ever been properly loved, pushed and pulled into a million different directions that didn't interest him. He didn't want to study biochemistry or law or business, and that made him a failure on principle. He wasn't ever going to be good enough for his father and his revolving door of stepmothers that bent to his every will._

_"You graduated bottom of your class. You'll never amount to anything with a GPA like that. You'll not get into college. You'll sit and rot in some apartment that I'll have to pay for, making your asinine videos while your friends forget you ever existed. She'll forget you ever existed, you know that, right? Nobody is going to remember your name. You have no legacy. You're a letdown to this family, and most importantly, this company." His father was disturbingly close now, free hand clenching into a tight fist._

_"That's what it always is with you, huh?" he shouted, suddenly unable to stabilize his emotions, "Business first, family second. I was raised by maids and nannies. You never held me. You never kissed my cuts and bruises, never told me it was going to be okay. And that's fine. I took care of myself. I made my own name. I made my own life. I don't need your fucking legacy. I have my own."_

_He hated how his voice sounded when he was crying. Weak and small and childlike. He wiped aggressively at his cheek as a glass slammed against the wall, shattering into his face and hair. He tried not to scream. Instead, he shook. Violently. He wrung his bleeding hand in his good one, trying to stifle a sob._

_"You will never be good enough." His father snarled._

"Tavi?" Ajay, face steeped with concern, was planted in front of him now, hands on his shoulders, lightly shaking him back to reality.

"Sorry, amiga. I'm fine."

"Ya don't look fine. You're whiter than a sheet. Where'd ya go?"

He debated answering for a second, debated lying and blaming it on staying up late playing video games, but instead he puffed out his cheeks and let out a long exhale.

"Graduation."

She softened, lightly cupping his face and tracing a cluster of small scars on his left cheek. He closed his eyes.

"Still gettin' flashbacks?"  
  


"Sometimes." He admitted, removing her hand from his face.

"I can still recommend a therapist to ya, Silva."

He huffed, "yeah right, like that would do any good." 

She studied him for a moment before sighing heavily and resting her head on his shoulder, "it's been worse for me lately, too."

He was almost shocked to hear that. She always had everything so together, and her family trauma was always so tidily packed in a tiny little box, only to be seen half-past never again, and in fleeting glances only he understood. 

"Yeah?" He let his head drop on top of hers and started walking toward the lobby. 

"Yeah. At least we have each other, right?"

"Right." 

He grabbed their keycards, the only remaining two on the table, and tossed Ajay hers. 

The card was small, like a hotel keycard, sleek with the new season's Apex logo on it. In small letters, under the traditional "A" was the name of their homes for the next several months. 

A familiar name. A set of small vacation condos. Ones his father owned. Fuck. 

\-----

His phone buzzed as he dropped his duffel onto the ridiculously clean king bed. He wanted to jump on it just so it didn't look so clinical. Ugh. It smelled of wealth and pine and leather and like the den at his father's estate. It almost made him want to throw up. He broke into a cold sweat and took a deep breath to bite back the bile rising in his throat. It wasn't usually this bad. He glanced back at the bed and tossed the covers down. It wasn't much, but it was relief. Just a little disheveled. He wanted to rip the paintings off the walls and burn the condo to the ground, but for now, he'd have to settle for an unmade bed and stolen hand towels. He swiped open his phone.

**12:59pm TJ: you good?**

**1:03pm TJ: I waited outside for as long as I could without suspicion. I'm in 495. **

**1:24pm TJ: I'm in my room. I was gonna check out the arena later if you wanna come. **

**1:24pm TJ: it's cool if not tho. **

**Just Now Nat: Wanna go check out the new arena with Renee and I?? Elliott said there's lots of cool ramps and stuff. Seems like your thing!**

He let his phone fall back to his chest for a second before picking it back up and swiping into Tae Joon's messages. He drafted about 25 before realizing they all sounded too clingy and desperate, and instead decided to just leave. He unzipped his bag and exchanged his travel clothes for clean ones, a cropped tank top, one of Tae's sweatshirts he'd sneakily taken, and shorts. 

He swiped his phone open again. 

**Just Now Tav: thx for the invite, nat but im pretty tired. see u tomorrow. **

He didn't wait for a response before pulling the jacket around himself and heading out the door. He was in 382, there didn't seem to be much order to how they were housed. It was random. Which, he thought, was good. Their current arrangement hinged upon Elliott's late nights at the bar keeping him out of his adjoining room on the dropship. He and Tae could hang out three nights a week, when Elliott would be home long beyond midnight, and they had time to be together without being heard. Once, he went home to be with his mother on a hiatus, and Tae hardly left Octavio's room. That was one of the first weekends they were together. Octavio had kissed him out of nowhere while in the firing range the week before. They had been spending a lot of time together prior to that, gaming and grabbing a drink, and flirting through text messages. As he made his way to 495, he flashed back to that first weekend. Tae Joon's hands, his God-sent hands, tangled in his short hair, tugging lightly as he panted. Octavio's mouth sending Tae to another plane of existence altogether. Octavio shook his head, trying to clear his mind. 

He reached the door, and knocked once.

"Just me," he called. He saw Tae peek through the peephole and swing the door open, looking around cautiously. 

"Nobody knows I'm here, amor."

"Good." Tae closed the door behind him. He moved to rub his shoulders but he dodged the touch, heading over to his (still perfectly made) bed and flopping down onto it on his back. 

"These apartments are so nice. Much nicer than our ones on Solace."

"I know. My dad owns the place. I stayed here briefly after I..." he trailed in the middle of his sentence, confusing Tae Joon. 

"Your dad owns the place?" He repeated incredulously. 

"Yeah."

"Shit. Your family really is rich."

"Mmm." Octavio hummed his agreement before playing with something on his phone. 

"Are you ever going to...tell me about them?" Tae started, sounding almost embarrassed. 

"No." Octavio shot up suddenly, dangling his legs off the edge of the bed. He grabbed Tae Joon's hand, "let's make out."

Tae hesitated. Octavio pulled off the hoodie and dragged him closer by his hand, planting a kiss on his palm.

"Please, Tae. Make me feel good. You always make me feel so good." He had begun kissing the whole way up his arm now, nibbling a small spot by his bicep and glancing at him through his eyelashes in the way he knew drove Tae crazy. Sighing, Tae straddled his waist, sinking into the barrage of kisses. Octavio slid his hands under his shirt and Tae lifted his arms. Octavio lightly moved along his abs, puling him closer by his belt and squeezing his hips. Tae Joon gasped slightly, deepening their kiss.

"I wanted to wait," he admitted suddenly, cupping Octavio's face and stopping him before he got too into it. 

"I didn't," Octavio countered, but not moving toward him anymore. 

"I'm sorry, Tav, I just. we just got here. We're at a huge disadvantage if we don't check out the arena, and-- nevermind." He cut himself off mid-sentence. Octavio knit his eyebrows together in confusion, nudging him to sit next to him instead of on top of him. 

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"No, T, what were you going to say?" He pressed a soft kiss to his temple, urging him to continue. Tae usually didn't see him like this, soft and not brash or endearingly obnoxious. 

"I wanted to see where you grew up. You're my...you're really important to me, and I don't need to meet your parents or anything, but I was kind of hoping you'd at least show me around." He wouldn't meet Octavio's gaze. 

Octavio didn't know what to say to that. Tae was more sentimental than he was, despite being fiercely private about his own personal life. He'd found out about Mila completely by accident. They'd been gaming together, before they were a thing, and Octavio found a file on his desktop while switching games. Tae's face went ghostly white when he asked about the file weeks later when they were in bed together, barely awake. Tae then told him everything, if begrudgingly and tearfully, and Octavio listened, hanging on every word. He didn't say much after, which he thought might have upset the other man. It wasn't that he wasn't a good listener. He was. He was just uncomfortable with deep feelings.

Which is why he was here, now, half naked and suddenly embarrassed about it. 

"I should go." He moved to pull the sweatshirt back on but Tae grabbed his arm. 

"Octavio." 

"I promised Che I'd meet up with her." He lied, pulling the sweatshirt over his head. 

" _Octavio_." Tae pleaded.

He sighed. 

"I don't want to talk about them with you." Shit. He didn't mean it like that. Tae raised his eyebrows. 

"With me?"

"That's not what I meant! Please--" He reached for Tae's arm as he stood.

He pulled his arm away, turning angrily to Octavio, "what are we even doing, Silva?" 

Ouch. He only called him that around other people. 

"I didn't mean it like that, cariño. Please. I didn't. I swear."

"You know, I have feelings for you. Like, real feelings."

Octavio pulled his foot under him on the bed, "I like you too!"

"That's not what I said. Any time, _any. Time._ I bring up family or feelings or anything, you push me away. I'm too old for that kind of relationship. I'm not in high school anymore, Octavio."

"So you've outgrown me then?" Octavio countered. 

"Don't twist my words."

"I just..." he shook his head softly, "I'm not good with this shit. I never have been." He sighed defeatedly, carding a hand through his hair. 

"I know, but you could remind me once in a while that you're not just...using me for my dick."

"It's a good dick."

" _Tav."_

"Sorry. Look, I don't want to be here, okay? I know you want to know more about me and my family and all that bullcrap, but I'm not ready to scare you away with all that yet." 

"Okay, bu-" Octavio cut him off.

"But I do...care about you. I think about you all the time. You made my life so much better. You have no idea." He felt his chest tighten, and he ignored it with a shake of his head. 

Tae Joon moved to sit next to him again, wrapping a strong arm around his frame. He realized he was shaking a little. 

"Octavio, look at me," he placed a gentle hand on his cheek, signaling him to turn his head. He lifted his eyes to meet the other man's. 

"You aren't going to scare me away. I have plenty of experience in traumatic backstories. There's nothing you could tell me that-"

He wasn't sure what made him say it. He hated dignifying his father by letting him live in his head rent free. 

"He beat the shit out of me, Tae. And if he wasn't beating the shit out of me, he was calling me a fuck-up. I haven't talked to him since I joined the games. Our deal with the stim included a clause that I would come home for Christmas, and I did, but I didn't fucking talk to him. The last time I properly spoke to my father," he winced, "was the night before I left. He told me I would never make anything of myself, that I didn't deserve to call myself a 'legend'. I was so _proud_ of myself for making it in, for setting the gauntlet record and I wanted him to be proud of me too." He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Tae Joon's thumb swiped at his cheek and he realized he'd started crying somewhere in that speech, "it's not that he was ever proud of me before, or at least he never told me. Nobody did. Che, once, but I think that was mostly pity. I just. I wanna feel like I'm worth something. And in the games, when I win, I do. But now that we're here. So close to my fucking family, I just. All I feel is dread. Like I'm never gonna be good enough, even if I get kill leader and win every game this season. It won't be enough. Because I wasn't a fucking doctor, or biochemist, or lawyer, or business tycoon, or-"

"Octavio, stop. You need to breathe."

He wasn't even sure when he'd started hyperventilating. Tae Joon placed his hand on Octavio's chest, over his heart, and Octavio placed his over top, nodding softly. He used his free hand to wipe at his face. While still holding his hand on his chest, Tae pulled him into a bone crushing hug, rocking slightly. Octavio sobbed without his own consent, immediately flushing from the embarrassment of showing emotion. Tae's hand played with the short hairs on the back of his neck and he kissed his temple. 

They stayed like that for a while. Octavio hadn't let himself feel this much in 6 years. It was a lot. Being here was a lot. The flashbacks were a lot. The pressure was a lot. Every now and again, Octavio would let out a repressed sob and Tae would somehow hold him tighter. 

"For whatever it's worth," Tae started, "I'm proud of you." 

Octavio locked his arms around him, burying his face in his neck. Tae kissed the skin joining his neck and shoulder. 

"What if I love you, Tae Joon Park?" he said, muffled by his shoulder. He pulled away and Tae pulled him into a fierce kiss.

"What if I love you too, Octavio Silva?"


End file.
